


Almond Eyed Man

by thegirlwholikestowrite



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentally Ill Tyler, Schizo Tyler, Schizophrenia, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:18:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4445057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwholikestowrite/pseuds/thegirlwholikestowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The almond eyed man saves Tyler. <br/>Thy decide to be friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almond Eyed Man

People define schizophrenia as the state the patient loses the connection between reality and delusions and the other brain functions stop working normally.  
That was the scientific way of defining Tyler, big words put together in sheer effort of describing the mess he was in, and the mess he actually identified as.   
And Tyler often forgot that he was more than an experiment and a diagnosis on paper and he got lost in this simple idea of he won't ever matter more than the illness inside his head.   
Tyler often forgot.   
His mind is messy, emotions and the patience to try to get better scattered around like the clothes he used to throw around his room, questions left unanswered.   
Tyler missed those times, when he was in high school and every problem of his could be solved with a simple smile and two hours worth of effort on some homework.  
Now Tyler was just another prisoner trapped in his mind. He forgot simple things, and he forgot the line between reality and his daydreams with a hint if nightmares. He couldn't sleep anymore without seeing ghosts of memories. He couldn't keep track of anything and he could hardly smile. So he wrote.   
He wrote everything. He stilled his thoughts on paper and he poured out his feelings on paper, his mind an ocean of never ending ink.   
He didn't have many friends. His family was always with him but he never quite experienced what it was like to be surrounded by people that cared about you regardless.   
Friendship was a complex term for Tyler. Ever since Pre school, he thought friends were only to cause damage and strip you of your worth. So he pushed the need of friendship aside in the hopes of not being destroyed again.   
Mirrors didn't show that Tyler was barely living, without anything to hold onto, only his illness preventing him from living his life on his mind.   
He was wasting.   
He wrote on everything he could find, crumpled napkins, on the banana peel he ate for breakfast under his mother's concerned gaze, his wall, his skin.   
Anything he could find to spell out some words, anywhere he could put a pencil between his fingers and write until his knuckles turned white, he considered home.   
When he wrote, things he feared to say tumbled out from his fingertips, slid down on to the paper.   
It was sometimes like walking on thin ice, prodding at his insecurities with frozen fingertips.   
Words knitted themselves together into a string of therapeutic bond. He could go into the depths of unknown without fearing for his life and he could say how he felt like without anyone hearing him.  
It was heaven.   
He wrote without tenses, escaping the past and hiding from the present, not quite believing in the existence of the future.   
He held the pencil tightly, like it was his only weapon in this war and he held the pencil so tightly like it was the only thing keeping him alive, only thing keeping him afloat.   
It was one of those days, where he escaped from the people that scared him to death and found solace in his pencil and paper again.   
It was spring, March probably. He didn't keep track of time nor did he care. Any day was a simple day for Tyler, it wasn't like he had any place to be at. Time was meaningless to a person that didn't belong.   
He opened his window, and was taken aback by the sudden entrance of fresh air.   
He sat down on his bed, crumbled papers pooling around his ankles. He sat back, the metal bars of his bed biting into his back. He wrote for hours, the sun slowly faded itself into an orange blanket over the city.   
A slow wind rustled the leaves of the trees and it picked up speed as it rushed. His mouth fell open as wind carried his paper out the window.   
He panicked. He didn't know why he did. There was nothing important on his paper that was worth him rushing downstairs and out in the traffic, frantically looking for the sheet of paper.   
His anxiety grew at the thought of someone finding it before he did. Beads of sweat rolled down his face as his legs rushed and his hands tangling together.   
He collapsed on his knees in the middle of the deserted road, asphalt biting into his palms. He felt weak. Every limb in his body moved against his will and he shut his eyes.   
Violent images behind his eyelids, he started crying. At first it was soft, quiet sobs that escaped his sore throat. Then he started weeping into his hands in a strange street he hadn't seen before, lost.   
He was familiar with the feeling of being lost. But it was never quite this direct. He tried to picture his mother, her flowery smell. But his memories gave up on him when he needed them the most and he shut down.   
He didn't feel the blood running down his wrist and he didn't see the street lights shining down on him and he didn't see the car coming towards him, than stopping abruptly.   
He didn't see the almond eyed man get out of his car to help and he certainly didn't snap out of it.  
"Hello?... Hello are you okay?"  
Tyler wasn't listening.   
The man grabbed Tyler's wrists, forcing him to face him.   
"Are you okay? Are you lost?"  
Tyler had lost his words, half amazed by how the sunset reflected from the man with almond eyes and half terrified of the lack of the comfort he has grown into.   
"I...I am Tyler. Uh..."  
"Oh. Tyler, I am Josh. Do you need help?"  
"Uhm... I... Need to find my paper."  
"What paper? Do you go to school?"  
Tyler shook his head, freeing from Josh's hold.   
"No, no no. I don't. It's my paper. I...I need to find it."  
Tyler struggled to stand on his feet, shaking terribly.   
"I... I have to go home Josh. I..."  
"Do you need a ride?"  
"I... Need to go home... Please."  
Tyler pushed Josh out of his way, his hands tangling once again. He hurried and tried to fight the urge to run back to Josh, for the comfort he gave Tyler in the very few seconds he had been with him.   
He looked back, seeing Josh gaping after him, his hands awkwardly put at his sides.   
He lowered his head and turned around, ignoring Josh rushing after him.   
"Tyler please wait!"  
Tyler slowed down, pulling at his sweatpants, nervously giggling to himself.   
"Are you sure you don't need help?"  
"I... Need to go home. Josh can you take me home? I want to go home. I need to..."  
"Yes. Yes I can take you home."   
Josh grabbed Tyler's hand, not even looking bothered by the gesture, or the blood gushing out of his palms. They quietly walked back to his car and Josh seated him on the front seat, then he got in.   
"So, uhm, where do you live?"  
"I... I am lost."  
"Oh."  
He paused, his expression unreadable.   
"Do you want to call your parents? Or a girlfriend?"   
Tyler felt his cheeks redden.   
"I... I don't have... A girlfriend."   
"Oh it's alright. Anyone you want to call?"  
"My... My brother."   
After a very long pause, Zack picked up the phone.   
"Goddamnit Tyler where have you been? Mom and Dad looked everywhere for you. You can't just run like tha-"  
"Zack it's okay. I... I am okay. I just need our address."  
"You, you forgot the address? Our address?"  
"Uh...yes. Just... can you just tell me?"  
"Okay. Okay."  
His house wasn't very far, a couple of blocks down the street Josh had found him. Embarrassingly close in fact.   
"Uh...Josh thank you... For the ride and... Everything."  
"It's cool, don't mention it."  
He looked distracted for a second, his eyes clouded as he turned to Tyler.   
"If you ever need anything else... Um... Can I have your number?"  
Tyler was new to hearing those words.   
"Are you... Are you saying you want to be friends with me?"  
Josh giggled, in such way Tyler forgot about all his troubles and his only purpose for living started revolving around wrapping a blanket around Josh's shoulders and keeping that smile on his face forever.   
"Yes. Yes I want to be friends with you."  
Tyler laughed, eyes searching Josh's to see if he was kidding.   
He wasn't.   
"Friends?"  
"Yes, friends."

**Author's Note:**

> I did this little thing. I was bored and absolutely hate the ending but eh, some of you might enjoy some schizo Tyler.   
> Kudos/ comment <3


End file.
